


Trial

by The_North_Star



Series: We Survived [4]
Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars: Rebels
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, F/M, all aboard the pain train, aside from one story i've been writing a hell of a lot of inquisitua sexytimes, because it's always a good idea to write small stuff, enough fun time for pain, i am inquisitua trash, if only to get it out of your head, so here's me trying to have some balance, this is a drabble that took me a day, toot toot mfs
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-02-20
Updated: 2017-02-20
Packaged: 2018-09-25 22:33:53
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,102
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9849422
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/The_North_Star/pseuds/The_North_Star
Summary: She arrives too soon.(angst, no tragedy [kind of], wasn't really sure of the rating since it briefly mentions things like nudity and murder so I stuck in on a teen rating, Inquisitua, canon divergent, drabble)





	

**Author's Note:**

> Enough fun. Time for pain. 
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> (I will continue this, don't worry. Just had to get it out of my head.)

 

“Where…where is….”  
  
Too exhausted to pull herself out from the birthing pool, she can only groan. Movement from her right catches her eye, and the sight is brief yet heartbreaking.  
  
The child is small, too small, barely big enough to fit in one of her father’s hands.   
He says nothing, eyes unmoving, and she wants to reach out to him.   
  
White-hot pain shoots through her when she tries.  
  
“ _Ule’ap_ , darling, talk to me!”  
  
No response at first.  Blood and fluid run from his hands.  She hopes none of it is coming from the baby.  
  
“The child isn’t breathing”, one of the Pau’an doctors tells her, gently taking the hapless little thing from her lover’s hands.  
  
“Not…not breathing?”   
  
Only then does Ule’ap come to life, turning his head to the sound of medics tending to the child and barking at one another in Utapese.  
  
The next hour or so feels like a month, and it crawls on in silence as two terrified parents wait.  
  
When the medics disperse, the little one lays in a clear box-like thing.   
  
Still too small.   
  
Too many wires in their little body.   
  
Not moving.  
  
Little, grey, helpless thing.  
  
She almost thinks the baby is dead until an Utai nurse pushes the tank and the attached devices to them, and she sees the minute rise and fall which indicated breathing.  
  
_Maker, thank you._  
  
The nurse shines a dim blue light on the tank as the Pau’an doctor returns.   
  
“A girl.  You both have a daughter.  And right now, she’s stable.”  
  
“Will she live?”  
  
Her lover’s baritone is clipped and cold, and even with the warmth of the water in her birthing pool Maketh feels his fear, icy, suffocating.  
  
No reply for a few heartbeats.  
  
“…That remains to be seen, sir…”  
  
The answer is insufficient for him.  “Elaborate---”  
  
“---Your child has been born seven weeks premature.  Infants born this soon do not have fully developed bodies, especially organs.  Children like these can live, but we only have complete knowledge of the lifespans of single-species premature children, such as Pau’ans, humans, Twi-leks---”  
  
“---Our child is Pau’an and human”, he retorts, frustration clouding his worry.  
“Surely you have some idea of a life expectancy for a hybrid with such knowledge---”  
  
“---Little to no chance of survival, sir!  A 15/85 percent chance. Especially considering the circumstances of her birth and how much stress and injury her mother has just endured.”  
  
Oh.  
  
_Oh no._  
  
The doctor looks to her.   
“I am very sorry, I am.  There is still the chance the child will live, and we are doing everything in our power to ensure that.  We are hoping the child’s midichlorians inherited from her father will sustain…..”  
  
A glance to her lover. He appears empty and lifeless.   
  
Oh, how she wish she could read his mind!  Why wouldn’t he speak to her?  
  
“….oh, I….perhaps I should allow the both of you to rest and recuperate?”  
The doctor’s voice sounds hollow and faraway and she hadn’t been fully listening to her in the first place.  
  
She reaches both hands to his face. “Love.  Love?  I’d like to go and rest, please.”  
  
“There is a clean room to your right with a bed.  Fully stocked with bedding, towels, clothing, anything you need.”   
  
“Lay out some towels upon the bed”, Ule’ap requests, his no-nonsense tone having returned to his voice.   
“To absorb the water, and so I may help Maketh clean herself.”  
  
The nurse nods and hurries into the adjoined room. There is only silence as Ule’ap gets up, reaches into the birthing pool, and carries her up and out.  
  
Ignoring the water splashing everywhere he carefully brings her into the dimly lit room, where the nurse has already covered the bed with two layers of towels.  They lay out a few more towels and a simple robe at the foot of the bed before leaving.  
  
With a gentleness familiar only to her he lays her naked form down, one hand pressing the towels to dry her as the other holds her in an upright position.  
  
“Darling?”  
  
He stops and closes his eyes for a moment, then continues to pat her dry.  
  
“Love?  Ule’ap, love, please tell me what’s on your mind.”  
  
Still no answer.  She cannot coerce him to speak and she decides to not push for a response.  
  
“I was a fool.”  
  
Despair laces his voice, and her heart breaks.  Had he not heard the doctor say that there was a chance the little one would survive?   
  
But she had not forgotten, with the way his life had been until now, with the cruel hand that fate continued to strike him with.  
  
_Maker, hasn’t he suffered enough?_  
  
“I was a fool to think, to believe, that I….that this would result in something good, and that all would be well.  I was a fool to seduce you into wanting to carry our child, and all our talk of how we would raise the little one. I was a fool to think that I could escape the misdeeds of my time as an Inquisitor, to think that beheading two men before your eyes wouldn’t cost me in some way---”  
  
“---Darling, you couldn’t have possibly predicted this---”  
  
“---Could I not?  I should have.  I should have known.  I do not deserve this life, and I do not deserve you, and the Force has seen to it that I would be unfit as a father and allows my child to live only so we may watch her die.”  
  
He lays a kiss, sad and hopeless, to her flesh hand.  
  
“The punishment fits my crimes.  And I should have never brought you into this. Forgive me if you will, Maketh.  I have deluded myself into thinking that I could provide this child everything I never had and keep her safe.  But I was, and will always be, one who takes lives.  
  
And now you will be forced to see her pass away, to fully understand the cruelty of the Force.”  
  
Despite the dull hum of pain she reaches and kisses his jaw.  
“The Force could not be that cruel.  It kept us alive through fire. It brought you to me.  It sustained our baby while I carried her.”  
  
“And the Force has decided to punish you also for staying by my side.”  
  
He reaches for the robe and wraps her in it, a heavy sigh escaping him as he embraces her.  
  
“Too much has happened, my dear.  You need to rest.”  
  
His hand hovers before her face.   
  
Too late she realizes.  
  
“Darling, don’t---!”  
  
Clouded, mournful eyes are the last thing she sees.  
  
“--- _Sleep_.”  
  
Then, darkness.


End file.
